


(she) means everything to me

by independentalto



Series: (all that i can hear is) a simple song [9]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: College AU, one sided crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22194847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/independentalto/pseuds/independentalto
Summary: Sitting on a secret is harder than it looks.
Relationships: Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Series: (all that i can hear is) a simple song [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594819
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	(she) means everything to me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by She by dodie.

There’s a couple of things that Daisy knows about her best friend: 

  1. Jemma Simmons could probably snore through the entirety of World War III and wake up without the foggiest idea what had just happened. 
  2. If Jemma doesn’t sleep through World War III, she’ll be getting kidnapped left and right when different labs want to steal her expertise. 
  3. Jemma Simmons is irrevocably, irredeemably, _undeniably_ in love with Leo Fitz. 



“Daisy, come on, you’re going to be late,” The alarm’s been going off for the last fifteen minutes, and it’s gotten to the point where Daisy’s acknowledged it simply by burrowing herself deeper into her blanket cocoon without bothering to turn it off. “Daisy,” Jemma sighs fondly from the other side of the room. “If you don’t get out of bed now, you’re going to miss May’s class again. And you know what happens when you miss May’s class.” 

A muffled grumble that sounded like “Idon’wannago” wafts from the cocoon.

“Come on, Daisy,” Still rolling her eyes to herself, Jemma clambers out of her bed, crosses the tiny dorm room and prods her roommate in an effort to get her to unroll. When that doesn’t work, she leans over and begins to unroll the blanket herself -- much to Daisy’s displeasure. 

“This is for your own good,” Jemma says patiently amongst Daisy’s grouchy protests. “You’ll be thanking me later when you’re not stuck helping May grade papers in a week.” With one last heave, she undoes the last layer of burrito, unwittingly ending up nose-to-nose with Daisy, who is suddenly  _ very  _ awake. 

“I’m up,” Daisy says, a little breathlessly, and scrambles as fast as she’s ever been to the bathroom, cheeks perpetually red. Jemma just chuckles and begins to get ready for the day; she’s got three labs lined up before she can go bowling with Fitz later that night. It’s going to be his first time bowling, and Jemma’s excited to show him the physics of bowling and bicker about the best way to throw the ball. (She’ll be right, of course.) 

“I’m going bowling later with Leo,” she calls through the still-shut bathroom door. “Don’t wait up.” 

“Noted,” comes Daisy’s drowsy voice from the bathroom. “Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

_ “Daisy.”  _

_ “Jemma,”  _ a mocking voice retorts before Daisy pops her head out of the door, grinning. “Promise me you won’t fight the manager about how you  _ should’ve  _ gotten the strike because of the physics involved?” 

Jemma sighs. Daisy knew her too well. “I promise.”

“Pinky promise.” 

“I  _ pinky promise _ .” 

Daisy grins. “Have a good day, Jem. Love you.” 

“Love you too, Daisy!” As soon as the door shuts, the smile drops from Daisy’s face faster than a rider down a log flume. Her toothbrush is despondently placed into its holder, and instead of returning back into her room to get ready, she climbs back into the burrito, hoping to catch the lingering wisps of lemongrass and sleep before she faces the day. 

She wishes Jemma hadn’t told her they were going bowling. Now she had to wrestle with the image of the two of them sharing a plate of curly fries, Jemma holding Fitz’s hand while teaching him the proper bowling grip (which  _ she’d  _ taught Jemma, thank you very much), even the two of them laughing over the dorkiness of their rental shoes.

That, coupled with the knowledge that Daisy will probably spend the night listening to sad music and aimlessly scrolling through Instagram until seconds before Jemma gets home causes her to pull the blanket a little tighter and contemplate skipping class. 

Because while she knows a million things about Jemma (the first three being the first of many), there’s one thing she knows about herself. 

Jemma Simmons means everything to her. 

  1. She’s irrevocably, irredeemably, _undeniably_ in love with her.
    1. Has been, actually, since she first heard her voice their first year of college.



(Maybe it’s two...and a half. Sue her.) 

Her phone chirps, and sighing, Daisy checks the time before groaning once more. 

Three-and-a-half things, actually: Professor May is going to kick her ass for being late to class again. Honestly, now that Daisy thinks about it, having to input May’s grades is a welcome distraction, one that takes her away from the growing fear that her best friend will figure out that she’s the star of a bad fanfic trope. 

So she spends the afternoon punching in a variation of the same five letters, letting her mind wander (and forcefully shut down) any visions of a future life with her best friend. If she let the visions manifest, she’ll find herself in a deeper hole than she already was. Best to not let the impossible dreams fester. 

Plus, on the more serious side, she  _ knows  _ she’s not allowed to like Jemma...not like that, anyways. It isn’t even just the idea of Leo Fitz and ruining their relationship -- it’s the unfounded yet chilling terror that if she tells even a single soul, her secret will somehow make its way back to a now-horrified Jemma, and, shunned, Daisy will be alone again. 

So she’s okay with admiring from afar, the consistent reminders killing her yet being the only things that remind her she’s alive. She combats them with ‘I love yous’ in the mornings and the brief second that follows where she can at least  _ pretend  _ to believe she lives in a world where they both mean it in the same manner. Besides, it can’t be wrong for her if she never gets caught. 

And maybe she spends an unhealthy amount of time talking to a Polaroid of Jemma she’s got taped to her wall -- it’s from their sophomore year of college, when Daisy had won a free Polaroid camera from campus and had gone on a photography kick. Jemma had been her first and only subject, and oftentimes, the photo just sits there, taped to the wall, the sunlight falling onto Jemma’s face frozen in time. 

She tells it about the particularly hard mornings, when she and Jemma are frozen for more than a second, noses nearly touching. She tells it about the dates real-Jemma and Leo go on, and how it’s like dragging barbed wire through her body to hear Jemma talk about them later on that night. In a way, it helps -- helps her keep her distance from Jemma during movie nights when the other girl has her head draped over Daisy’s shoulder, warm against her t-shirt. 

Daisy even tells it about the first time Jemma kisses her -- it’s completely on accident and the product of one too many peach bellinis -- somewhere under the apple juice and peach, she can still smell the lemongrass and sleep from this morning, soft lips still pressing gently as can be against hers -- 

Then it’s over, Jemma’s pulled back, flushed and giggling with a hand over her lips and proclaiming that she  _ just loves Daisy so much _ before gathering the brunette in a tight hug. It takes Daisy a solid five minutes to comprehend what had just happened (Jemma Simmons had kissed her, her best friend had kissed her, her totally straight best friend with a  _ boyfriend  _ had kissed her oh  _ god  _ what the  _ fuck  _ why the  _ fuck  _ did she do that --) before she manages to slip out of the bar undetected, stumble home and slam the door behind her with rattling breaths already slipping over her ribs. 

Unsurprisingly, the only thing present the next morning is Jemma’s hangover, and Daisy takes it as a sign from whichever deity is watching over her to actually  _ do  _ something with her pathetic little act. Running towards it isn’t a choice, so away it is. 

Apparently, while Daisy’s entire infatuation has gone unnoticed right under Jemma’s nose, the second she even slightly pulls away, her best friend is on red alert, confronting Daisy during their regularly scheduled movie night. It traps Daisy in a corner, stokes the secret inside her until it’s big enough to be yanked out with a curious hand, finds her throwing all caution to the wind and gently pulling Jemma by the neck to kiss her again; for a brief moment it’s like everything is right and her best friend tastes the birthday cake and story time and autumn leaves she’s tasting -- 

\-- but then Jemma pulls back and  _ both  _ of their eyes are filled with tears...and it’s right then that Daisy knows Jemma tasted nothing in return. 

Daisy offers her apologies instead, slapdash one over the other while she half-trips out the door. Jemma can’t seem to stop staring at her with that damn prim hand over her mouth, so Daisy just runs, sprints across campus and catches the first train that’ll take her away. The trauma of it all catches up to her while she’s on the train pulling off of campus, and it makes her sag to her knees, an inhuman sound escaping her mouth. 

She doesn’t particularly care if she’s getting weird stares at this moment -- her life is  _ over _ , capital O - V - E - R, the one good thing in her life gone. She’s not sure what she knows what’s left at this moment in time, but what she does know is this: 

  1. She, Daisy Johnson, is in love with Jemma Simmons. 
  2. Jemma Simmons is and always will be in love with Leo Fitz. 



And, of course, the biggest kicker of all time:

  1. She’s just ruined a relationship _and_ a friendship in one kiss. 




End file.
